Ficlets

Dead Weight

The edges of the lake were just barely frozen over and the leaves that had once been displayed in resplendent colors now lay in soggy piles underneath naked branches. We walked along and our hands, which had become to accustom to intertwining with one another, now rested solitarily in our respective coat pockets.
“I…,” he started, but he decided to let the single syllable fade. “You…,” was his second attempt at speech, but it too went unfinished.
“I don’t blame you, you know,” I finally said. He looked over at me in suprise. “She’s pretty, and smart and funny. Things I’ll never be.”
“It’s not that,” he protested. “It’s just, I’m…” His unintelligible attempts at speech were beginning to annoy me. If he wasn’t willing to own up to what he had done, I certainly wasn’t going to let him off easy.
“Have a nice life,” I said, and I turned around and began walking back. Did it hurt? Yes, it did. But it also felt so good, like dropping a weight you have been carrying for way too long. I was free.

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